If reached beside the pearly cradled rose
therein a rattling joy; o' stillborn child.
What uttered mine - unsaid angelic prose,
should passing lay my husk and essence wild?

Awaiting yonder womb were tepid wings;
inflamed with bonding warmth of kinship love,
like softly feathered pads and rocking swings
then ardent glows, as seen and known above.

The wailing babe is music sung and sought,
for more a sleepless dusk - had since apart.
For eyes which never opened wide were wrought
and taken here and strolled in golden cart.

Should words in amber fail and infant pine,
behold the spectrums soul, the same as mine.

In homage - splicer of Aladdin's reel;
a bow, beneath the centered piece so drawn
and slants alive in shade of noblest seal,
no other blushing temptress ever worn.

To hasten tryst; may taint her Jasmine gaze
as lashes flutter onto other's love
how then beguile and keep her ardent daze,
thereby no more in spite - a lonely dove?

The mystic canvas; mine - eternal beat,
and soars in winds, which sail's her gentled tones,
adrift and glides, to bloom this rose, complete
once withered long beneath the hermit stones.

If journeyed nether brittle; sways no guise
remote and marvel then - her Jasmine eyes.

The nightfall smears a biding shade and plume
as Nyx complexed the clear diurnal day
and skews the stoic lensing out of gloom
alike the hearted Eros, wrought his sway.

How still the specks of frost on balm and reed
like stars arranged in view for crystal eyes,
and glazed upon the tips; a sweetened mead
which lovers strive in truthful, purple prize.

A sullen stratus coats the idle orb
succumbs the amber beams to patchy lure,
and from within uncertain skies absorb
a kindred duel; dreamers must endure.

Tonight, the morrow, all thereon to be
to ardors flux; at night is when to see.

Remember me in spring when blossom's blush
and petals flair a - light in morning mists
that'll haze a rainbow hue - of flowered plush
to portrait mine as every bud untwists.

Upon the birding bath as robins splay
the warbling chirp shall voice as tho' from me
for you my sweet, in springtime bloom of may
shall hear the larking flute of my decree.

The dancing leaves shall tap and Ivy's birth
and Snowdrop's bow as daisy eyes unveils
as fragrant, olive air shall scent of mirth
that once were lost, now shrines as spring prevails.

Vernal rebloom shall stream that pulse of mine
then seek that earthly glow, and there I'll shine.

The snowy lilies gird her pith - in wake;
bejewelled love reposed in truest sleep
as Floras' wreath outdone by sorrow's make,
then thought; what comfort worth are stems - to weep?

Could petals glint upon her sombre plume
and sorb bereaving rain - of mourning kin,
or priestly Latin's timbre out of gloom
and Schuberts' toned refrain - a lighter hymn.

Although, a striking; flowered plush pervades
as fragrance spliced with copal - yields in heart
and over each an ashing pyre cascades,
begotten times and seasons - death not part.

Embraced the blossoms, now upon her lay;
a sweeten lilly - kissed by loves defray.

The bodied lilly fires in ashing haze
and from her amber embers I devolve,
into a weeping candle - churning maize;
an orb at night, alight to my absolve.

Remorse suffused with jasmine glazes woe
as moonlight trailings battle hue my grief
for left no infant child to mirror so -
my lover's petals, ceasing lines of leaf.

Nor have, I flare to scribe a marbled ode
that could so hymn or bear my love that shared
nor stone as cold as grey, be just; that owed
the flaming satin, fate had not so spared.

Then let this writ incense - her newly form
until my vigil dims; to death's reform.

Routinely lark, though this day depth therein
bemused as why the warbling fluter turned
instilled and sung laments, residing within
and perched unkind; that brittler branches - spurned.

Melodic angst has never sprung so dim
and tunes of fathomed trebles; parted love?
Perchance the ballad pours a swansong hymn;
and from aloft the skies - returns a dove.

If song an' bird be taken dazed with stars
beliefs contort and bowing strings apart
nor stealth be known as fervent dwells the scars,
though bleak the lust for any other heart.

O' feathered, pennate cherub play her whim!
Remain upon the sill and bygones swim.

Scouring walls
sanding hands
grazing galls
varnished strands

upward stroll
winging tips
silent roll
grooving rips

sighing depths
whispers fall
staining breaths
unknown wall

senses bare
flooring sand
wetted air
dripping gland

morose dew
sickly lashes
mourning pew,
perching ashes

sleet-river veins
mist-tide lobes
stringing strains
vermilion globes

pale slim
stilling beat
liquid brim
sinking seat.

Between my sense and love; I duel both
since newly roses lay upon my bed
for I cannot in just - accept to oath
as I'd concede my merit worth for wed.

My seams are withered next to youth in pair
each crinkle peeks their weight and furrows deep,
towards my reason's home and billows there
and bids to our affair be put asleep.

Tho' beauty greets the morn' as summer light
and fills my blemished chasms with lava glow
that pours on aging years a lulling bright
then unto where my love resides; would flow.

Resist no more! Her golden tempt demure
deserve I not, yet what will age assure!

Shall I return to poems scribed of old?
That once with each a turn and covered page,
bereft a seeping fume that laden bold
and from that glyphic smudge - her cursive stage.

For still upon the tips of ink parades
the lissom bride beheld with gentled hand,
and prose's vigil neath the dust pervades;
that either I immerse within, or strand.

Though lyric embers flare her ardent kiss,
embedded texts peruse a lover's loss,
then should the torment forge my own abyss
the depths shall shadow me amongst the moss.

At least in chasms; beloved reels inside
so dwell shall I - where love has not yet died.

Reflective lining bears the passing years
of crinkles carved and worn to that of age
and from the mirrored galls a hearse appears
with thought to carry; when shall death upstage?

This day? When larks resound of warbling birds
as garden's glaze, the vernal blossom glows
amongst are playful kin of callow words
and yonder meadow green, my love in pose.  

Caressed by cherry blossoms, from a time
when youth we swayed beneath that ruby tree,
her amber curls would kiss verdure in prime
with lissom twirls that blessed my eyes to see.

When I shall drift away from worldly plush
and leave I shall, let not; in springtime lush.

Go find for me in all of botany;
The rarest green amidst the sweetest mire.
That blooms of petals white like cottony,
Of growth 'twas serenaded by a lyre.
Replant with gentle skill by window's sill
Repose the eye that sunlight does not steal.
The blondy gaze, so fixed herein and still,
Unless the breezes kiss corona's seal.
Then flowered dance shall sway to hymns of bay
And whom shall follow trance'd with steady eyes;
Be titled botanist, of beauty's play.
Degree that yields each morn' when sun does rise.

Find that and glimpsed what fair does lay this bed,
But 'pare her side the flower, flower's dead!

Of nature's pairing hearts that love renowned
shall I compare the depths of those duets
to virtues won, betrothed and then have bound
this noble cause and gift, that none forgets.

As doves through ether, we ascend delights
no frost shall haze the wings on truest path
tho' wind and rain befits the winter nights,
near maple leaves we warm; as singles bath.

The Swans devout will glide the lakes unknown
we two abound, prevailed by mantras vows
and when apart in bevy we have flown
shall wait till night when lovers dance allows.

As rare as diamonds forged for cupids' stone
is love we found alike - the emblems own.

If truest sleep shall take my love aloft
as brittle fate appears to favor course
to yonder past the murk - as journeyed oft
and I as sullen, cause to bide remorse?

Assure that I embraced with amber glow
aspired her peach as sunlight would the shore
enhanced by myths alike; bestowed by bow
tho' wistful I - as could in depth been more?

Did roses blush while shades of mine had part,
did timbre sweeten less from out my tune.
Tho' I exalted - with a song in heart!
A lover's ballad praising us in boon.

Ah, know that each an' love I've given true!
For none alive so loved, nor can renew.

The turn of Spring aligns this love of mine
a winter glaze of lonely sleet dissolves
and splay the buds towards the golden shine
as snowy drops, her namesake fair evolves.

Each rose with mirrored red have toned her blush
that greeted from the whispered words of love
on petals kiss and hue then spread this crush
rebirthing eyes from out the cold above.

The Tulips worship skies with loving glow
as tho' in stem and reach implants my heart
and rainbow gloss as such that they do know
with all the hope and promised Summer start.

So call love Spring as I have cause to gleam
restoring life that once had none beseem.

Forgone into the nether realms of grief
with piths embalming loves' corrosive drear.
Bemused; for worldly plush negates relief,
If woes be - known; how differed earths veneer?

Verdure would tinge a molten shade of lime
the oaks will mourn their leaves, and cease the Spring's
with wilting plumes adrift the songbirds prime
and dimmed the sun as dark as lovelorn brings.

For pebbled hues of grey will shroud the skies
and cursive lacquer; etch this sickly mold,
the winds will howl forebodes of vows and lies,
no more shall grace nurture upon this wold.

This suffered love cascades and dwells as deep
if even touched by Gods - would thunder weep.

Could which of nature's art, out-glow her grace?
Of silver specks in night, I start with ease;
her pupils win as deeper they, than space,
should stars so blued auroral night, she'd seize!

As solar orange fuses morning sky
that but a glimpse of beauty I behold,
when dreams awake she enters then mine eye
the golden sunbursts were as tho' my mold.

If clouding vapour then above appease
and raindrops drip her hair as red as wine
her pageant dousing, even humbles trees!
For Winter's peers outdone by her own shine.

Partake above and let all plush combine!
And still would splendor short - to lady mine.

Should grief be drowned in waving thrones of sea
bereft as me; shall boat and venture deep
until that ever spanning moat has me
then salty hearse's cleanse - that I not weep.

If seagulls flock the sky above this scene
then fly them lower here and feast debris
for little worth has lovers' break - that been
as sheathing sinks, the fishes then agree.

No shrine would rise beneath the liquid tomb
the ocean bed shall crest my seams as shells
tho' here no flag nor plankton mark old bloom
concealed in sand, from shores and tiding swells.

The bay entices me, whom sprayed with brine
but I shall wander on; in shards of mine.

O' sandy shells, o' sandy shells; I know
Why pearly armor 'neath the sand conceal.
The whisper tells, the hearted tells of woe
From windy lisps, begotten ears then seal.
The hush foretells, that love foretells, of pain;
A grief that hollowed clams, collect and feel.
To ease the spells, that love-lost spells refrain,
That lovers old; with broken shells, can heal.
O' empty wells, o' loveless wells; rejoice!
As by the sea; the tiny shells will steal
The burning cells, the lovelorn cells and voice
And nestle where; nostalgic sands congeal.

Yes lover's bells, O' magic bells; let shine!
Turn not to shells, like many shells of mine.

As I do list the highlights left of me
In twilight of my life through memoir's reel.
I find on playback still the eye does see;
Her face of fairest light so spins this wheel.
And smiles me back wherein my youth's alive
To gift again my fresher self her hold.
And whilst she glows, my vibrancy survive
Then length that I do live, shall still uphold.
Ah! When these bones are left amongst the dust
Instilled is she that deep my ghost will make -
The times of her; my center force's ******,
And 'bout that force our times shall then remake.

Her timeless beauty; I do hold with all!
That she be here, and there when death shall call.

Confession, me? Could I repent my time
And weary be, my pupils then to see
far-gone the dreams, beheld and shined my prime
it's all it seems, to rest and die with me.

Invent a past? The silence is the truth
and took at last, my pain where I had asked
goodbye old sun, the veil of haunted youth
the sorrow won, there I am now to cast.

One only song? Another may have sung
that here i'm strong, and here I could belong
to live by means, that spring the hearted young
my heart it cleans, the journey I prolong.

Yet here I lay, to burn in bright of day
I yearned the way, to rise but here I stay.

I write a grievance to the Reaper's will
who'll take me nether, just tho' it will be
yet hell is not my quarrel, hell's my bill
it is the season which the staff reaps me.

O' leave me when the summer sun meets blue
whilst rays respect with sprightly rippled glare.
Nor when a Winter's cold had light out-blew
for out the snow had meadows been as bare.

O' Spring! Not when the floral blossoms dream
of rainbow petals lipped that nature's birth.
Then left is Autumn, fitting; passing leaves,
then Fall I'll die, into the realm I'm worth.

O' grant me soul-consumer; seasons bide!
Let Autumn be, the scene from which I died.

Conversing lover's tongue - I may neglect
to discourse plainly love, beheld and true
as noted oft; when sultry day's effect
and wine that doused your play could not outdo.

Bereft none, ardent lust transcends accent
if measure need be - time my other speech;
the pash upon your jewel I've descent,
until in tone you've pled for deeper breach.

If still unwise - let know I've curbed cascades
tho' early tidal swells have raised herein
it's flow are liquid signs that love pervades!
That then have gushed to honor you therein.

So swim my words of love within your womb
and find that home, so say my love in bloom.

I know of beauty in the need of praise
For her own view of self does view defect
And cannot dream that eyes adore her glaze,
That needn't the sun nor light to gift effect.
The social sites appear to worsen her;
Perfection shown does taunt the blemished seen
Her radiance a - glow then turns to blur,
Until that youth becomes what has then been.
Tho' shyness plagues me, ink from mine can't shy
If she this sonnet read, rewrites her eyes,
Then she to her own beauty can't deny,
And I, her sonneteer maintain disguise.

Tho' if nearby she reads from this aloud
Then may just may, she'll glance me out a cloud.

Near the wavey waltz of beach
above are Gulls flocking by,
downward rays her beauty's peach
to carom and meet my eye.

Golden strands outshines the sands
and gazing pupils allure;
to deeply swim the ocean's hands
that cleanse lover's demure.

Winds ripple her amber dress
to homage summer's fashion
so lissom that I profess
her mine! Ashore of passion.

The hushing brine, splashes sighs
as to how her shimmer gleams
and none so ever arise
that'll match my lover's beams.

Let this diamond, kissed by sun
flow gently my love's decree
that she'll be mine, soon as one;
this rose's beauty will be.

With smile's high, and dripping eye
she exalts through salty air
"with love so vast, outdone the sky
of course! Now an eternal pair!"

In echo then, the seashells!
whom plush of Cupid's spree
foretells of ocean love spells
of her, me by lover's sea.

Tho' modern pen has lost a cursive touch
and words archaic; poet's old cliches,
electric type has still the phrase to clutch
and render beauty's make through sonnet praise.

Have I then prompt to key my quill to prove
iambic worth has ink for grace so rare?
Tho' words cannot do just, nor then improve
but page her beaut for those that cannot stare.

A lady's fair in metered writ, romance!
And have so in; revered poems of old
now newer peach must too afford a chance
to muse a bard, that none her flair withhold.

Let modern sonnet's ode new blush to art!
And tho' from present phrase, they still impart.

The breaths of fall have swayed the ochre glow
to age the meadow's sheen - with humbling form
then swirls the leaves in whirling wistful blow,
the rustling whispers hush - I too deform.

For I have withered - since the seasons past
as swift as tempered winds have flown my years,
I linger now between my summer's cast
to neath my coat of winter's icy fears.

As tho' to trees like oak I cling to life
in winds that gust and reap from twig and limb
and I, a dangling leaf in breezes rife
awaiting mine; own fall and hue to dim.

From autumn's mulching patter; I derive
my heart's own cease of seasons, will arrive.

Bereft like groaning, are the summer storms;
unhappy growls despite the humid joys
and why I join the chorus Zeus performs?
My chest is burnt by Sun rays, love employs.

Then from the heat I curse the skies a-light!
observers witness this; mid-season change
from golden sands to shading grains of spite
and surf dissolve where spume to sight; outrange.

As time to wounds, I rumble, till the gales
Ah! Soothing are the breezes of relief
tho' hurt and whine with rain and whimper wales
a brighter dawn will turn the days of grief.

I lingered in; the summer storms of  loss
then drip the rain - until new love can gloss.

Turn off the sun and moon, to view your form
As purest as the light that then just dimmed
Celestial orbs do blind your eyes perform
To witness that within, your gaze has skimmed.
To know yourself is knowledge that your love
Has worth to give, and worth to render men
And needs no light to gift you from above
But take these words and practice that I pen.
If then you seek that manly half you've missed
Let know that I am fond of that you've found
As to my own have yours with light so kissed
For while in darkness, I to you were bound.

Relight them when your mind, minds - not their show
And find me there in wait, with inner glow.

No doubt, her temple shines a jeweled trove
each carat gold would glimpse of lover's wealth,
shall I then try entreat her guarded cove;
and win a love, immured from suitor's stealth?

Her lair is wreathed by tears of bitter moat,
a soften rippling tide conceals my stride
each imprint leaves no cast or sandy float
with only faint demures to serve as guide.

For dense, uncertain fogging clouds her glow
as tho' her light's obscured, so none may find,
or love, in templed grief incensing woe
with none a paddled boat so left behind.

Her water's deep and cold, than to allow
tho' having tried, her lantern's brighter now.

Shall I exalt your grace as season's bring?
In winter; you're a frosty glazed escape
upon the icy sculpts of harps and string,
then plays the autumn leaves, that oaks undrape.

The ochre glides as you cavort the green
till blossoms bow; to all your springlike glow,
amidst the roses we proclaim a queen!
A spring vernal upon us - you bestow.

When dew has dried by amber's master hue
and caroms off the sea the summer beams,
within akin; devotes my lovers view
that eyes azure could match the ocean's seams.

My many seasons you are in cascade!
This love shall bask in each - when one is made.

She was never one for churches;
the incense smells and clanging bells
priestly tells of Ave spells
the window tap from birches
last place you'd find her are churches.

Tho' a seraph aglow was she
of soften lips and rosehip tips
her sweeten grips did caress my hips
as passion flowed by decree
till life's source seeped and died did she.

I don't ever recall her in satin
now Goth's her plume and dark her tomb
in wreathy gloom my heart in loom
engraved in solemn Latin;
radiant tho' does she appear in satin.

I drench in rain from her kin
no words dare, heal their despair
each whimper and glare - a wraith I bear
as death against life did win
dripping, dripping off waters from her kin.

To the golden emblem above the dais
I whisper a hymn, out of me to him
light her husky dim and all her limb
and if she'll raise - onto you I'll praise
and worship you upon this dais.

Not often granted, even in churches
for love is lost, esprit crossed
my mind in frost, our past is glossed
'it dawns now my love' - a whimper searches
'why you were never one for churches'.

When mine eyes near to close - for truest sleep
then best her gentled hand beside me hold
as I'd take with, her sketch into the deep
to let her fairest portrait, beacon gold.

Then into bodes of seraphs I'd have flown
and bid the high archangel grant me this;
that in his flock have one alike my own,
as only then has one bestowed true bliss.

Before the gilded counsel, I will gift
her glow that carried from the nether sphere
and blaze a shrine that'd bring an answer swift!
To match this beauty's flair, there are none here.

Then blast me into limbo! There I'd wait
for her eternal grace to be my fate.

To when the lark shall sing me down the crust
And plant my best, for best you gave in me
And will; no coffin carry then my dust
For yours that blooms within, in death shall be.
Then from such love would sprout a blushing rose
And pierce the soil of bones to eye my stone.
No seasoned force compel your love repose
As when our pairing winds; had sought and blown.
Complex the flower's dye that shades of red
That spectrum meet our love of first to new
And tho' I lay in mine own final bed
Into that sunset find and live that hue.

Tho' each a drop you shed by way of grief
Shall too from rose then fall; a petal'd leaf.

If I pronounce to him a fool who'd part
with you, the whitest swan a bevy flies
then I shall too as now be cast apart
for lesser man is he that never tries.

Tho' take no ballad' sign of my requite
assure that there's a yearn within desire
for toiled have I in lusts refrain despite
for your above as I have dwelled the mire.

Tho' should your love upon me bathe and shine
would I in grasp accede that ruby stone
then place that gem to near the pith of mine
and dance around that rose uncovered throne.

So then accept this writ as love's own line
and should it pierce a heart, then love be mine!

A lover's garden is - a budding maze
that grows from sprouting seedlings 'neath the sleet
as mirth for spring outdone the frosty glaze,
and stems to touch unveil with flowered greet.

The blossom heads imbue the wealth within
to splay a redden zeal, or blue of truth
or white as pure, but darker shades can win
tho' hue can glow, it could then bring untruth.

For beds of flowers thorn and sharply *****,
to walk the floral beat; some planter's bleed,
the dripping stains, and petal leaves unpick
But if the bristly spines grew true, proceed.

A lover's world can grow an Eden's yard
tho' if from brittle make, then prune on guard.

As I beheld a star that weeps my eye
I plead and pry to glimmer brighter glow
as pledged in bedside woe by lips now dry
Marie awry; did then avow to show.

Distort no stellar veil - lie not to grief
whom seeks relief bestowed in speck of night
if none so shrine as bright; this meet be brief
I then debrief upon another light.

The choice of guise my love Marie so pined
is you remind of how she'd need arrive
for dark you thrive; so spread the mole to mind
left her behind, hence why - I now contrive.

Reveal her! Lighter of seraphs - that's mine
At last! Marie shines down on me - divine.

If I could shrink an ailing body piece
then from my chest dilute the torrid pain
that billowed when your love had parted lease
and drowns me in; a churning, scalding strain.

Decrease the ***** till the burning yields
and donor none, such grief is best to waste,
dispose where to; from other cores it shields
let feast by creatures, used to bitter taste.

If left with none to love, repose to sleep
in dormant I, then have no blood to give
for hurt would have no muse to reach as deep
nor then again let lovelorn wounds relive.

O' take this beating ball of lover's tar!
To drain her out my pulse, and mold no scar.

Depression is; a desert well of sand
no water drops are left to tear the pain
and buries hearts as granules hold remand
for there alone and in; despondent shame.

A grief within a world that none can hear
nor venture near enough to sense one's dry,
the inner voices scream but choke on fear
to speak; is churning neath the weighted sigh.

To walk with feet that sink, in winds that burn
and forms the tallest dunes that grows to tame
then render one like lifeless dust to urn
and better then to be in death than maim.

Depression is; that plain that sorrow bore
and that is just an hour, the hell has more.

If my tomorrows were in summer's reach
I'd sail this day, on waves of bitter wine,
towards a newer dawn, on bluer beach
for ocean sprays, sting none to lover's brine.

The amber heated sky should melt her cold
that frozen 'neath my eyes her parting words;
another's light has won her love's remold,
let then each phrase be fed to hungry birds.

The Gulls can stomach salt I cannot bear
for they're accustomed tasters in disdain,
and pine for greater feasts, for I not dare,
but castle sands, and hide my love's domain.

Tho' if no love, there'll be no summer's day!
For all will be as bleak, as is, today.

Her glare has winter's icy chill within
and has through heavy breath corrupted mist
now blown the soggy air in Cupid's sin
to bite mine lips and speak none to resist.

Forgive me nots succumb to frozen shards
by love's pall-bearers, marching out her womb
O' could the coffin with the heartless guards
return and free my love? That broke to gloom.

Ah! Could such grief be warmed with mournful eyes?
The same blue dyes, which now's a deep azure,
as she did play in older, springlike guise
but has it worth; to out her iced allure?

Before the hearted tomb expels all breath
I'll plead through that I know; or spring in death.

Before the earth reclaims my bodies' ash,
what shall I miss the most of all her lush?
Her eyes that flutter each a darken lash?
That usher rhythmic beats of rapid flush.

With eyes azure that rise as ocean waves
that aquas mine, and in my pupils won
her country dress that only beauty braves
of golden glow that brought my will undone.

Or how her lips embed an inborn blush
for makeup only then would hue impair.
Then of the summer passion made on plush
when whistling lover's breezes kissed her hair.

How hard to die when she still glistens fair
as I will miss her all, that love could bear.

Partake no heart, with what you've done to mine
and leave no token lipstick stain to burn.
For you already swim, in comfort wine
that drowns the cells within my chest to turn.

Then plaque; unused desert will render mold
with sickly smells, your cancer love bequeaths.
I banish each recall of you; untold!
Retaking wind, from out your image wreaths.

Yes clutter none, no more in halls of love
and leave the healing, burden past to me;
to pray uncaged, my heart's own wounded dove
to love again, and revel love to be.

Now take your poisoned love and part my heart
for I shall heal, and bid my love, restart.

As I have aged, her grave appears as new
Instilled in time, with time that stole her youth
Belaying 'neath the cruelest mire, death knew
To stain the satin dress that dawned love's truth.
When winds do swift away my oldest breaths
And I rejoin my love in lasting sleep
Will I by spirit - in it's soulful depths
Recast hereby my angel of the deep?
If not, let worms leave that of love and mine,
By her my love did know and there shall dust
And let the ashes draw her name to line
The nothing that awaits my ardent rust.

To when the grey becomes my coldest stone
Beside or with, her love's my ever known.

My love is tone-deaf, I can't hear the pitch
the sweetly nothings, all are nothing songs
and should the heated notes and lyrics switch
I'd be in dated tunes that none belongs.

Now when its time to play, or when to pray
or spice be added too, I tie in knots
love tangled strings that missed the rosy way
like sheets of music bare of noted dots.

Ah! Love of mine still echoes, ringing truth
abundant mess, yet has it's worth in wealth
to sound my gold then listen for my youth
for hearts that sing, meet not a lover's stealth.


So if romantic pleasures sing to meet
try meet in simple terms, and then repeat.

The cyclic seasons give a cause in soul
to view the mortal realm in seasons gone
for winter was our start and is our end
yet ice will always melt with Spring to dawn.

So sweet the Lillie's scent when sun rays win
buds fissure out and eyes of Spring to see
that if undone, the birds of love would sin
as oaks with none a leaf, could call a tree.

Auroral orb sustains and mirrors youth
so raised with graceful red and set to dark
that autumn wings atone and age with truth
so brought by winds to ice and left their mark.

We are mere tourists; in a season's change
so forge and live this well, for none exchange.

As she and I do lay 'neath summer's noon
I quarrel with the sun; who loves her more?
For you do shine her glow, rename her June
That she does wear as sunlight ever wore.
Her ocean eyes turn rays to aqua blue
That she so welcomed them does aid your cause,
And tease in mine my mortal self and you
That struck her beauty so, my chest does pause.
And think that you; the purest, loves by day,
But I with extra eye have doubled sight,
To gift her twice the worship you relay
And thrice more when the lover's love by night.

O' sun, good friend, I fear I have you beat!
Tho' had that glow, me very near defeat.

Despite a lonely glaze within my chest
that steady beat still drummed a pattern true
and had not missed; as lonesome would behest,
but pattered onward tho' it were anew.

Until the fairest gaze with hands sateen
caressed and conquered in, with dainty feel
that stroked, and wrought to change what peace had been
to tap behind my breast her fervent zeal.

At will, and touch she spurred a thumping pulse
as tho' my core were drums, and she'd out-play;
a trancing mood no man could then repulse
but let the beauty dance and waltz her way.

My gentled rapping churned, her grace outdone!
To thwart in that was mine, till then, she'd won.

this castle built has walled the inner child
as whispers gasp to breach, but pierce no steel
for father brained that lungs are voices wild
that mouthfuls aren't a streaming bile to wheel

about this throne is ringed a wavy moat
no sand to crown, just swimming bait to dwell
to catch the Venus tongue for none can boat
as sails are none to search the misty shell

now cunning are the roses; leaving trails,
of red tip petals pruned to meet mine eye
and she from out the haze shall tap her nails
then in the window shield, and out my shy

tho' thickened armor mazes; brain and chest
the fairest shall then solve and twine a nest

My sonnet to: my future love to be
Tho' now I know you not, I know you some
Enough that you have wit, to love for me,
Let words impart, before our love become.
Refrain from early use, of that called love
As night to day, is past onto that word,
Yes tho' no doubt, our love will form above
I'll be that darkness still, where pain does gird.
If gentle, as imaginings create,
This heart you love, be gifted - soft the touch;
Then through your tones, will 'love' then hide in wait
Until that love shall shine the day as much.

Then all is yours my distant, darling one
Till then I too will wait, where love is none.